


Frostbite

by ScarletPetal



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Crying, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Mild Spoilers, Misunderstandings, Post-Episode 11, Written before episode 12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 12:38:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8980063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarletPetal/pseuds/ScarletPetal
Summary: Yuri didn't know what to do, didn't know what to say. But he knew of one thing, that what he was doing was right.





	

❅ ❅ ❅⠀•❉•⠀❅ ❅ ❅

⠀  
⠀⠀⠀Yuri Katsuki knew that he wasn't the best in the world— the best figure skater, that is. He lacked in many categories whether it be the difficult jumps or his fright of the crowd surrounding him. Sure, he had immense stamina to the extent that even _the_ Viktor Nikiforov couldn't compete against. But other than that, the twenty-four year old man wasn't much of a crowd-stopper. He thought that he would be okay with being an average figure skater, that he didn't, wouldn't, need to appeal to anyone else besides his coach. He thought that, hey, even if it was impossible for him to win gold, that as long as Viktor was there with him, he'd be okay.

⠀⠀⠀ _But it is more complicated than that_ , a voice hissed viciously in his mind, _after all, do you think that he would just stay with you when all you're doing is failing, ruining his reputation... holding him back from doing the one thing he loves?_

⠀⠀⠀ _Viktor loves me, Yuri tried to tell himself, he would never leave me for such a reason._

⠀⠀⠀ _How do you know?_

⠀⠀⠀ _I just do. He would never._

⠀⠀⠀ _Well you're wrong. You saw with your own eyes the face he made while watching those other skaters— Yurio Plisentsky, Christophe Giacometti, Phichit Chulanont— that was the one and only expression of extravagancy, amazement, a simple eye-catcher. You saw how he looked so relaxed, a smile rested his lips, pupils dilated as they followed the many smooth movements of their bodies as if the ice and them were one. It was an expression that he has never made with your performance, and one that he never will._

⠀⠀⠀ _Stop_ , Yuri pleaded, _you are wrong!_

⠀⠀⠀ _If you don't believe it, ask him yourself._

⠀⠀⠀Yuri yelped as he tripped beneath his own two feet, the skates scraping the ice a little too deeply, and he collapsed to the frigid floors. He coughed, the fall being a little too sudden and painful for him to have been wary of. From the other side of the rink, the raven-haired male could hear the frantic call of his coach. Sadly, his ears were blocked out from any kind of human voice, and he resolved to the sound of static— a muffled, hissing sound that echoed loudly through his ears.

⠀⠀⠀Scratching the ice with his thin nails, Yuri did not even stir when another figure slipped through with such grace and offered to help him up. Viktor stared down at him with such worry that he didn't even think to take his hand, only avoided the pale skin and lifted himself up from off of the cerulean ice, "S-Sorry, Viktor, I'll try to land it this time, I promise. From the beginning?"

⠀⠀⠀"Are you doing alright?" Viktor ignored his question, a strained and worried look plastering his features. "Tired? Sick? How about we take five?"

⠀⠀⠀"I'm... fine, just thinking is all."

⠀⠀⠀"Don't think too much," Viktor sighed. "Just focus on the routine and your jumps— remember, you're changing them for a higher count."

⠀⠀⠀"Yes," Yuri nodded, "From the beginning."

⠀⠀⠀The music starts again, and in an instant, he is moving— gracefully, he doesn't know, but at least he knows he is moving. But he isn't thinking about his routine anymore, he is thinking about Viktor and his career as a skater, not as a coach. His heart and mind throbs at the thought that he is holding him back from doing the one thing he loves and how he is tying him down from the potential he knows he has.

⠀⠀⠀He shouldn't be here. He should be in the rink with his own coach and his own goals, not here with a man who has no chance in winning gold and wasting time. Yuri doesn't even know he is speeding up within his routine, leaving the music to trail after him unevenly and losing its part of the emotion. His mind is so caught up on Viktor that he is unaware of what is happening around him, isn't even aware that his jumps have formed from a practicing Quadruple Lutz to a wimpy single, isn't even aware when his name slips off of Viktor's tongue in burning confusion.

⠀⠀⠀Then, he's moving too fast. His legs are sliding across the ice far too quickly, arms limp and messy as he dances to the music, and it isn't a surprise when his feet knock into each other for the second time, causing him to trip to the ground. Yuri returns back to the reality of things with a groan.

⠀⠀⠀Viktor is at his side again, offering yet again another hand. Yuri shakes his head and pushes himself up, resting on one knee. The silver-haired man cocks his head in puzzlement towards his actions and speaks, "Yuri, are you sure you're okay?"

⠀⠀⠀"I said I'm fine," Yuri replies softly.

⠀⠀⠀"You haven't been yourself lately. Your performance isn't to its fullest potential as I know it should be, and your focus is lacking. I don't think you're fine, love."

⠀⠀⠀Viktor's comments hit him harder than they should have on any other normal day, and his chest tightens at the words. If Yuri wasn't feeling this sense of guilt and dread like he was now, he probably would have smiled and nodded, accepting the truth with ease before rising back to his feet to clear his mind and start over. But this wasn't like any other normal day. Here he was, his troublesome and skill-lacking self couldn't do anything. He was wasting more and more of the man's time with something as simple as trying to perfect an already performed routine. _You are such a failure_ , his mind sneered wryly, _that was what you always were._

⠀⠀⠀Yuri snaps his head upwards towards where Viktor's hand was still outstretched, eyes flashing an emotion somewhat close to worry or concern, and curls his lips in a frown, "Of course my performance isn't to its fullest potential! There wasn't any to begin with!"

⠀⠀⠀Viktor parts his lips in a shocked manner, "Yuri, love, what are you talking about?"

⠀⠀⠀ _You're troubling him again_ , his mind chortles darkly, _making him worry for you all the time, slowing him down, making life harder than it really is— can't you do anything right?_

⠀⠀⠀ _No, I can't_ , he mentally cries.

⠀⠀⠀His eyes droop down back to where his palms were solidly placed on the ice, his fingers curling into his hand and forming a tight fist. Yuri sniffs, "I-I'm sorry, Viktor, I'm just tired."

⠀⠀⠀It is as if every word that left the dark-haired skater's lips dissipated into thin air, for a smile graced the coach's lips ever so beautifully. Viktor brightened slightly and took the pale-hued hand of the skater into his, massaging his knuckles and helping him back onto his trembling limbs. Yuri doesn't know whether to be content that his sudden outburst was forgotten or be distressed in the fact that his lover didn't push forward. He chose to ignore the nagging feeling in his throbbing heart. He allowed his lover to pull him up onto his skates. Viktor smiled and gently rubbed circles at the base of Yuri's spine, comfortingly and sweetly, "Then, perhaps, you should rest for the rest of the day since you've been working so hard. Later, we could go out and find somewhere to go for dinner. Sound good?"

⠀⠀⠀Yuri smiled, though it was strained, "Sounds great."

⠀

❅ ❅ ❅⠀•❉•⠀❅ ❅ ❅

⠀

⠀⠀⠀But rest was the last thing on Yuri's mind once the silver-haired man left the hotel room, his steps disappearing into the deepening hallway until he could no longer hear his rhythmic movements. Waiting for a moment more, he slipped on his shoes before dashing out of the room and towards the nearby skating rink they had just left. He was quick to slip his skates back on to his already aching and scar-implanted feet, the silver tip stabbing roughly into the ice as he flowed gracefully back on the frozen waters.

⠀⠀⠀He hadn't brought the music player with him, fearing he would take too long carrying the damn thing on his way back to the hotel room, and he was for certain that he needed to arrive in the room before his lover. But the lack of actual music did not affect him, for it was imprinted in his head like a tattoo on skin— forever there, everlasting. Yuri placed his hands outwardly at his sides as he stood in his beginning stance, the melody echoing in his head until it was his time to move.

⠀⠀⠀And move he did, arms flowing fast, yet aggressive in the air as his skates slid across the ice and creating a scraping echo. He listens for certain parts of his song, muscles dancing from memory, and he doesn't stop himself from allowing his emotions to overflow as if he were in a real rink meant to be judged. He imagined the crowd, maybe silent, perhaps even cheering, but either way, they were entranced by his performance. He imagined the judges high above him, watching him like hawks with sharp pupils and quick instincts. Then, he imagined Viktor. He imagined him with a stern expression, eyebrows furrowed as he watched him skate, observing, mentally fixing his mistakes, maybe even throwing his arms in the air when he lands a jump.

⠀⠀⠀Viktor is the main part of why he takes skating seriously. It is why he imagines Viktor of all people when he skates because this man is his reason for still being here, competing. He admires Viktor. He loves Viktor.

⠀⠀⠀ _But your love for him is the reason why you are pulling him back_ , Yuri listens as another voice engulfs his thoughts, _you are monopolizing him, restraining him from doing what he loves. He doesn't want to coach a failure. He doesn't want to be with you. Why would he? He doesn't want his reputation to go south when you are placed last. You are killing Viktor Nikiforov._

⠀⠀⠀His limbs tremble from the wording. Yuri Katsuki, killing Viktor Nikiforov? He wasn't doing that, was he? All he wanted was for Viktor to be by his side for all eternity; he didn't want to end what Viktor was.

⠀⠀⠀ _But that is what you're doing._

⠀⠀⠀ _I don't want to be the man known for killing Viktor_ , Yuri tried.

⠀⠀⠀ _Then, end it._

⠀⠀⠀ _End?_

⠀⠀⠀ _End what you have with Viktor. He doesn't want to be with you, don't you see? You already know that, I am sure. He wishes for you to end it, so why not follow in on his desires and do it? End it. He is done with you. Viktor Nikiforov wants nothing to do with a failure like yourself._

⠀⠀⠀It was as if his mind ruled the world around him, for when he readied himself for the Quadruple Lutz, he sprang into the air with a heavy start and missed his landing. His skate completely missed the ice, and the raven-haired male landed on his side with a loud slam followed by a groan of agony. He didn't even notice how close he was to the rink wall, his head barely hitting said barrier lightly when he slid across the ice. Yuri couldn't catch his breath, couldn't believe how useless and how much of a failure he ended up being. He thought he could do this. He thought he would be alright. He thought he would be enough.

⠀⠀⠀Yuri thought that, maybe, Viktor wouldn't really care if he won gold. He thought that they would get married no matter what place he ended up in, but now, he really didn't know. He couldn't trust anyone. He was alone. Whoever was speaking to him through his mind was right— he was a failure who was holding Viktor back from doing the thing he loves for his own selfish desires that wouldn't even come true.

⠀⠀⠀Then, he did the one thing he often didn't do. Yuri slammed his fists onto the ice, skin blooming into a bright scarlet hue due to irritation before screaming. It was viciously loud, his throat raw as his built up anger and frustration came hurling out all at once, tears brimming his eyes and beginning to trickle down his cheeks. He was never one to scream, didn't like to lash out or allow his anger to get the best of him, but this was different. He had to let the person he loved free. He had to look at his golden ring for one last time before taking it off. He had to end what he had with Viktor Nikiforov.

⠀⠀⠀"Why can't I do anything right?" Yuri screamed, his own enraged and distressed voice echoing throughout the enclosed rink, and he hoped ( prayed ) that no one heard him in this rare state of his. "Why do I have to be a failure? Why did I ever believe that I could be with Viktor? Why did I ever think I had a chance? Why did I ever think that I could win gold? Why did I ever think that I could win Viktor's love forever?

⠀⠀⠀"I am not worth his assistance. I am not worth his love, so why did I ever believe I could be? I am nothing more than a burden for him to carry on his shoulders. He can't skate because of me. His reputation is being torn apart piece by piece because he is coaching a failure of a skater. His record has been broken, and he can't take it back because... because Viktor Nikiforov is dead!" Yuri cried into the ice, the tears dropping onto the frozen waters and seeming transparent on the base as if they never existed, "I killed him... his life, his passion for skating, his love to surprise, his reputation, his record, his everything that made him Viktor, the world champion. Now, he is nothing... because of me!"

⠀⠀⠀"And you're right."

⠀⠀⠀Upon hearing someone's voice he did not recognize as his own, Yuri lifted his chin and craned his neck upwards, scanning the rink. His chocolate-colored gaze rested upon a familiar face, a young teenager with pale blond hair that barely touched the base of his shoulders and piercing cerulean, emerald-mixed eyes. His lips were tugged in a pursed frown, eyebrows furrowed as he stepped forward and leaned against the rink's wall, "Having fun there, piggy?"

⠀⠀⠀"Yurio..." Yuri murmured softly, throw raw and slightly pained.

⠀⠀⠀"Wallowing in your own self-pity?" Yurio wondered aloud. He clicked his tongue and smirked as if trying to appear superior. "I don't know what else to say but think you're pathetic. Though, I should say that everything you've said up until I walked in is true."

⠀⠀⠀Yuri shut his eyes tightly and clamped his lips together. He had heard him— all of it, he doesn't know, but enough, he is sure of— and it is pathetic, he agrees. But if he agrees, why did it hurt so much to be told so? His heart clenches as he repeats his own words along with the teenager's hum of agreement, and his eyes shimmer with a new addition of tears. Yurio wasn't the nicest person to him, he has already gotten used to his snaps and boastful comments, but this was a whole different side. A side that he hasn't seen before. A side that mentioned his near future with Viktor, or Viktor's future itself.

⠀⠀⠀"Viktor was a living legend for winning five consecutive World Championships, five straight Grand Prix Finals, and many others. He was at the top of the world when it came to figure skating. But now, he has fallen. He fell a long time ago, at the first moment when he left Russia and landed in Japan to demand he be your coach. It was then that I knew Viktor Nikiforov was dying, dead," Yurio informed roughly, glare boring into Yuri's own pupils. Neither of the two dared to look away. "But he could rise again if he wanted to. He could reclaim his spot at the top and break another record... if you would just let him go, yet you won't."

⠀⠀⠀"I know."

⠀⠀⠀"Viktor could bring himself back to life, his love and passion to skate, if you would just let him."

⠀⠀⠀"I know."

⠀⠀⠀"Viktor could expose his full potential, if you would just let him go."

⠀⠀⠀"I know—"

⠀⠀⠀"Then why don't you?" Yurio snarled, his vicious tone doing much more than simply echoing off of the thick walls of the rink. The teenager's voice blared itself within the small room as if demanding attention and seeking an answer, scratching at the raven-haired male's ears and causing them to ring and become blurred. "If you know that all you are doing is making Viktor's life a miserable, never-ending spiral of failures and dread, then why won't you let him go? The world is waiting for Viktor Nikiforov's capturer to finally free the man he has, to return to him what he deserves back, to return to the world what has been thieved from them."

⠀⠀⠀"Viktor..." Yuri began, "Viktor—"

⠀⠀⠀"Viktor wants to be free," The blond-headed teenager finished. "He wants to skate, goddamn it. He doesn't want to watch in the sidelines anymore. He doesn't want to be the coach and the one who will take the fall for a failure. He wants the gold, piggy, not your love."

⠀⠀⠀Then, everything is silent.

⠀⠀⠀ _Don't listen to him._

⠀⠀⠀ _Viktor loves you._

⠀⠀⠀ _Ask him. Don't assume._

⠀⠀⠀Sadly, no matter how hard his conscience tried to convince him that his anxious mind was lying, he could not bring himself to believe it. Everything made sense— they could easily fall into place, so what was there not to believe? What, did he really think that Viktor truly loved him? 

⠀⠀⠀ _How foolish_ , his mind chortled.

⠀⠀⠀ _He doesn't love you._

⠀⠀⠀ _He doesn't._

⠀⠀⠀ _HE DOESN'T._

⠀⠀⠀ _I should have known_ , Yuri thought, _of course that would be what he wants; isn't that what we are all here for?_ A rounded, heavy medal made out of real gold? It was no wonder why Viktor specifically said that after the Finals, when he won gold, that they would get married. His coach would not want him if he did not win. And oddly enough, Yuri has a sense of understanding. It was normal to not want to be with someone who could not deliver the things you truly want. Everything... made sense.

⠀⠀⠀ _Fine_ , he told himself, _I will end it._

⠀⠀⠀ _Good. Do Viktor and the world a favor._

⠀⠀⠀When it appeared that the raven-haired man didn't have any intentions of replying, Yurio gave a low scoff and turned foot. He parted his lips, mind trying to form other words to say— anything to make sure that the message he was trying to send through would have some affect on the skater— but he sighed and clamped his lips shut. He had said enough. He wasn't that cold-hearted to completely drop the skater's confidence or hopes, so he didn't say anything more.

⠀⠀⠀The only thing Yuri heard was the door closing behind the teenager, the hinges creaking slightly before a loud clock rang through his ears. He was left in complete and utter silence.

⠀⠀⠀He was left to find a way to end it.

⠀

❅ ❅ ❅⠀•❉•⠀❅ ❅ ❅

⠀

⠀⠀⠀"Did you rest well, Yuri?" Viktor questioned sweetly when he trailed into the hotel room, a towel wrapped lazily around his waist. It was clear that he had just returned from the pool, maybe had a talk with his long-time friend, Christophe Giacometti. From where he laid sprawled on the bed, a blanket covering most of his features, Yuri tried to keep his voice steady and clear of distress.

⠀⠀⠀"Mm, I haven't slept this well in a long time."

⠀⠀⠀"I'm glad to hear that," Viktor purred, and the dark-haired skater could hear him as he unzipped and rummaged through his luggage, looking for something to wear. "Well, Chris offered to bring us and some other skaters to a restaurant he deems to be have the most deliciously-made steaks, cold wine, and beautiful decor— but that could just be him being his dramatic self. If you're still up to it, maybe we could go—"

⠀⠀⠀"No," Yuri interrupted a little too quickly.

⠀⠀⠀Viktor narrowed his eyes, confused, "No?"

⠀⠀⠀"I-I mean," Yuri fumbled, panic edging his tone. "I mean, I don't feel too good. If you want, you can go out with them. I will be fine here."

⠀⠀⠀"No, love, if you're not feeling good, I will stay back and care for you."

⠀⠀⠀"I will be fine alone, Viktor," The skater insisted. "Go ahead and have fun."

⠀⠀⠀It took two minutes and a concerned look for the silver-haired male to finally speak. He seemed to be contemplating which would be more appropriate at the moment, and Yuri had to admit that he loved when Viktor appeared to in deep thought. He always had such deep and naturally beautiful features, like when his sapphire, gunmetal-hued eyes darkened slightly when he stared, or when he licked his lips before pursing them into a serious frown. It was times like these, when all Yuri needed to do was let go, he found that he could not. He would miss this man. He didn't know how he could go on living without him.

⠀⠀⠀ _But he wants to be free_ , Yuri found his thoughts roaring, _free from you._

⠀⠀⠀ _Oh._

⠀⠀⠀ _Of course he would._

⠀⠀⠀ _I do nothing more than pain him, his life, his reputation._

⠀⠀⠀" _Yuri... Yuri..._ " Viktor's voice cut into his thoughts once more, and the skater shook his head as he tried to return back to reality. Yuri lifted his head from where it was placed on his pillow, chocolate-colored eyes landing upon a now clothed Viktor.

⠀⠀⠀"A-Ah, yes?"

⠀⠀⠀"Love, you don't look too good, maybe I should just stay with you."

⠀⠀⠀If Viktor said _love_ one more time, Yuri was sure that he would melt into the covers, ask him to join him, and keep him by his side for the rest of his life. His heart told him to do just that, but what was right... contradicted what he wanted. He had to do what he could to make sure he did not go in deeper in love with Viktor than he should. He had to make it easier for himself, for the both of them. Yuri mustered up the most comfortable and content smile he could create, his eyes dulled and tired, though still owning is own fake glimmer, "I'll be fine. Go out and have fun."

⠀⠀⠀Viktor looked skeptical, "Are you sure?"

⠀⠀⠀"Of course. I would feel bad if you stayed here while everyone else has fun."

⠀⠀⠀"Okay..." Viktor nodded slowly, turning his back slightly to face the mirror. Fixing his tie, he glanced at Yuri through the reflecting glass and gulped. "I feel bad leaving you here when you aren't feeling too well, and especially when you have a Free Skate the following morning... I don't want your performance tomorrow to be affected... but if you insist, I'll go for a little bit and bring you back something to eat."

⠀⠀⠀"That's fine. I'll be fine. Just relax, Viktor."

⠀⠀⠀Viktor nodded again, his eyes frantic but nonetheless, accepting. With the last adjustment of his black tie, he cleared his throat and padded to where the raven-haired skater was settled amongst the white hotel sheets. He pushed the dark tresses out of Yuri's forehead, his pale hand lingering there for a second longer than usual before leaning forward. He knew what was coming, and he wouldn't have avoided it no matter what— in fact, he would have embraced it. Yuri would have met his lover(?) in the middle and kiss him, allow himself to taste the addicting flavor of Viktor and shelter it in his heart.

⠀⠀⠀But this time, he was skeptical.

⠀⠀⠀Yuri didn't lift his chin upwards to meet him in the middle, only shut his eyelids and allowed the familiar lips of Viktor to make contact with his forehead and hope that he wouldn't fall deeper in love. He didn't resist, per se, but he didn't engage either. He simply allowed it to happened and prayed that it would be enough for the silver-haired male. Viktor pressed his lips harder against the skater's skin, lingering for a millisecond longer, before pulling away to nuzzle his knuckle gently into said skater's warm cheek. He smiled, "Call me if you need anything, love."

⠀⠀⠀"I will be fine."

⠀⠀⠀"I know. It was for my own peace of mind."

⠀⠀⠀A rumbling escaped his throat as he mustered another fake laugh, and Yuri pretended to push his lover(?) towards the doorway, "Get out of here already. You'll miss everyone."

⠀⠀⠀"The only person I'll miss is you."

⠀⠀⠀" _Goodbye, Viktor!_ "

⠀⠀⠀Viktor chuckled, "I love you, Yuri."

⠀⠀⠀ _He doesn't really love you_ , his mind screeched overbearingly loud, _it is an act, an act until you lose at the Finals, an act until you give him another reason to get away from you._

⠀⠀⠀Yuri tensed at his own thoughts. His smile visibly faltered and strained, and before Viktor could say anything about it, he was already forcibly tugging it back up and tilting his head sweetly to the side. He shut his eyes, attempting to hold back unshed tears, "I... love you, too."

⠀⠀⠀And he did.

⠀⠀⠀Yuri loved, loves, Viktor.

⠀

❅ ❅ ❅⠀•❉•⠀❅ ❅ ❅

⠀

⠀⠀⠀Viktor left an hour ago, and Yuri thought he could use this free time to figure things out. He sighed softly, feeling his own warm breath reflect off his pillow as he placed his head back into the comforters. It was times like these he wished Makkachin was here with him, snuggled in his side and sending soft snores down his waist. He could forget his struggles for the time being, forget that everything he has known of Viktor has been a lie, and forget that he has to let go of the person he loved. His heart drummed in his chest, suddenly, at a rapid pace; Yuri hadn't even felt himself begin to breathe faster.

⠀⠀⠀It suddenly became far too hot to have the comforters around him despite the weather outside, and the skater kicked the sheets off of his overheating frame, palms digging into the mattress as he rose from beyond his laying position. His hands fumbled with the rim of his shirt, trying to air himself and hope this wasn't what he thought it was.

⠀⠀⠀ _It isn't_ , he told himself, _you're fine._

⠀⠀⠀But he wasn't.

⠀⠀⠀Yuri thought about calling Viktor, to tell him about this unexpected episode, but immediately ruled that possibility out. Not because it wasn't possible, no, but because he didn't want to cause any more trouble for his lover(?) than he already has. _I can do this_ , he tried to tell himself, _I can overcome this without Viktor because he won't be here to stay with me every time this happens_. Yuri huffed out small and tensed breaths, his eyes wandering around the room for something to distract him, something for him to watch, to listen, something to help him forget this pain. He can't find anything— the television is off, the curtains are closed, no one is with him.

⠀⠀⠀He is alone.

⠀⠀⠀His breaths come out even quicker, even tighter, even more excruciatingly agonizing as each one leaves his parted lips. It is like his lungs are squeezing themselves, shrinking and leaving no room for oxygen to properly flow. It is as if they are purposely trying to betray him, hurt him, punish him. Yuri chokes, hands trembling pathetically near his chest as he crawls on the mattress for a way to reach for his phone. He needs music, slow and mesmerizing, enough to make him forget. He doesn't need Viktor. He doesn't, he doesn't... he [does] not.

⠀⠀⠀Yuri doesn't need Viktor. He can't feel the need for Viktor, for one day, he won't be here for him when he needs him the most. The former figure skater will leave to fulfill his own goals, will leave to reclaim his spot at the top, break records, relive the fame he deserves. He simply cannot wait for Viktor to come and save him. He won't let himself do that.

⠀⠀⠀But he wants to.

⠀⠀⠀But he needs to.

⠀⠀⠀Yuri wants for Viktor to care for him.

⠀⠀⠀Yuri needs it like he needs air.

⠀⠀⠀ _But you swore to free him_ , his head screams, _you swore to free him of yourself. You swore that you would end your selfish desires and free him of worry. He doesn't need to be burdened and constantly worried for the likes of someone such as yourself._

⠀⠀⠀ _Free Viktor Nikiforov._

⠀⠀⠀ _Free him._

⠀⠀⠀ _End it._

⠀⠀⠀ _END IT._

⠀⠀⠀"I WILL!" Yuri screeched aloud, clutching his head and leaning forward, fingers scratching at his scalp roughly and grasping at his sable tresses. He could barely catch his breath after his own breakdown, his chest tightening, the tears forming and trickling, his heart throbbing painfully. He was so exhausted of hearing the same thoughts snarling through his head. He didn't know how much he could take. The raven-haired man readied himself for another scream, "I WILL, I WILL, I WILL!"

⠀⠀⠀Sweat drenched his skin, trickling down his forehead and neck. Tears brimmed and ran down his reddened cheeks, warm and wet and disgusting. Pain spiraled from beyond his throat to his chest, a sensation of fire and blood seeming to escape his body. Yuri gulped slowly, eyes scanning the empty hotel room before landing on a pair of ice skates— Viktor's ice skates.

⠀⠀⠀His heart warmed at the sight of them. He could faintly remember the man's performances when he was younger, when they both were young and alive. Yuri could remember how gorgeously he had skated, soared, across the ice. Viktor's hair was longer then— a blue-silver hue that shined like fresh river water flowing down a riverbank, tied back and up, yet still as free as the wind. He could remember how happily and gracefully the man had soared, emotion flooding out of him from his movements and his facial expressions so flawlessly that he had cried. Those were the skates he had worn, had always worn, still wears. They were beautiful— the blades were gold along with the rims with a Russian flag at the heels.

⠀⠀⠀Yuri can still faintly remember the music that he skated to ever so elegantly, ever so beautifully and gracefully. He can envision it as if it were right in front of his very eyes. The emotions were clear. The dance was clear. Everything was clear. Yuri could feel his breathing begin to slow, his thoughts engulfed by the past performances and emotions displayed by Russia's greatest figure skater.

⠀⠀⠀ _Russia_ , he thought, _is where Viktor should be._

⠀⠀⠀ _Russia is his home._

⠀⠀⠀ _Russia is where he belongs._

⠀⠀⠀"Viktor shouldn't be here with me," Yuri caught himself murmuring.

⠀⠀⠀Breathing in deeply, Yuri found himself exhaling lightly, calmly, normally. His episodes were never long, but they were painful and hard enough to cause him to faint. Thinking of Viktor always calmed him down. It was depressing to hear that the same man was also the cause for his sudden attack. Yuri sighed one last time for confirmation before rolling over to grasp his phone, opening his messages. He swiped down to Viktor's name, pressing against the contact before beginning to type, fingers indecently slow as if trying to find an excuse to take longer than he should.

⠀⠀⠀Yuri discovered himself to be oddly calm and tranquil at a time like this. From just recovering from a panic attack, he found it peculiar that he was still awake and functioning. Not to mention, that he was finally living up to what he thought was true, and what was right. Viktor was only wasting time being here with him. After all, he would never win gold. Viktor was only destroying what was left of his reputation representing as his coach. After all, he was only failing and humiliating himself in front of live television.

⠀⠀⠀Viktor will be disappointed.

⠀⠀⠀Viktor won't marry him.

⠀⠀⠀Viktor won't love him.

⠀⠀⠀"This is the right decision," Yuri murmured sadly to himself.

⠀⠀⠀It had to be.

⠀  
⠀⠀⠀ **| ⠀To: Viktor <3**

⠀⠀⠀ **Hey. We need to talk.**

⠀  
⠀⠀⠀Yuri knows it is.

⠀

❅ ❅ ❅⠀•❉•⠀❅ ❅ ❅

⠀

⠀⠀⠀Viktor returns to the room within ten minutes, and he is immediately met with a delicious scent pervading the room. Yuri can taste it on his tongue, the steak that Christophe deemed to be something he couldn't miss out on. His stomach growled in protest to the scent, but he couldn't distract himself enough to ignore the nagging feeling in his chest. The hotel door shut behind the silver-haired male when he padded into the room, a white bag in his hands, "Yuri... are you okay?"

⠀⠀⠀ _No, I am not fine._

⠀⠀⠀"Mm, fine," Yuri hummed half-heartedly.

⠀⠀⠀"That is good to hear," Viktor nods as he places the food on the table, throwing his grey-tan coat onto the nearby chair. He points to the bathroom, "Quick bath, then we'll talk, okay?"

⠀⠀⠀Yuri nods.

⠀⠀⠀And he isn't afraid to admit that he is glad that he has extra time. He needs to plan everything as thoroughly and as carefully as he can to make sure Viktor understands— to make sure that he can actually go through with this without sobbing, He knows that this will be harder for himself than for Viktor, after all, he will be the one without the chains holding him back and the freedom he deserves. He won't be dragged down by his skater's failures. He won't have to be entitled to care for him, love him, coach him. Yuri knew this was a win-lose situation, that in the end, he would be the one on his knees with tears in his eyes. But it was for the best.

⠀⠀⠀Yuri could hear the water turn on, the droplets firing against the tile of the bathroom forcefully along with a breath of steam escaping beneath the door, and he found himself mentally counting the amount of time he has before the time comes. _One, two, three..._ He contemplated whether he should take off his ring, the golden tie around their finger that linked their relationship together, but a part of him screamed he shouldn't. Though, he probably should.

⠀⠀⠀Then, he thought about whether he should look him in the eyes... _Eighty-eight, eighty-nine, ninety..._ He didn't know which was worse, not being able to find the comfort in Viktor's gaze, the calm waves that resembled an ocean's salt-filled current, or finding that he couldn't speak without looking beyond them. A part of him screamed that he should look into his eyes and hope for the best. Though, he probably shouldn't.

⠀⠀⠀ _How could I tell him_ , was a common question that came strolling back into his head. He could start out with all of the happy times he's had with Viktor, then he declare the end of what was left of their relationship(?). Yuri liked this option more than simply spitting out that this was his and their last skate together before he retired figure skating for good and that he hoped there wasn't any hurt feeling afterwards. Nonetheless, his mind told him that this was the better idea. There wouldn't be any hint of hesitation, nor would there be any sugarcoating. It would be short and to the point, like it should be.

⠀⠀⠀ _Three hundred._

⠀⠀⠀ _Five hundred._

⠀⠀⠀ _Six hundred._

⠀⠀⠀Then, the door flung open. Yuri could feel the warm tears slamming roughly into the back of his eyes, stinging, enflaming, and making it more difficult to hold them back. The ring on his finger felt frigid and frozen, the cold sensation forming an imaginary, painful imprint upon his skin. He slowly raised his chin to meet with Viktor's clothed frame, only a pale white robe covering most of his bare body. A smile was plastered on his cheeks as he spoke, "Yuri! The bath here doesn't compare to your bathhouse back in Japan! It isn't very comfortable, and the water makes my skin dry—!"

⠀⠀⠀"Viktor," Yuri's lips were moving on their own, "We have to talk."

⠀⠀⠀ _What am I doing?_

⠀⠀⠀ _I don't want to end this yet._

⠀⠀⠀ _BUT YOU MUST._

⠀⠀⠀ _I don't want to lose Viktor yet._

⠀⠀⠀ _YOU ARE KILLING HIM._

⠀⠀⠀ _FREE HIM._

⠀⠀⠀Viktor's smile depleted within seconds as he sat down besides the raven-haired male on the bed, the mattress dipping slightly from the additional weight. "Yes, but about what, love?"

⠀⠀⠀ _I don't want him to stop calling me his love._

⠀⠀⠀ _HE DOESN'T LOVE YOU._

⠀⠀⠀"About our future," He found himself saying, "About us."

⠀⠀⠀"What about us?" Viktor's voiced his rising panic and hurt. His eyes dilated twice their normal size, and he looked ready to rise from the bed. His hands found Yuri's, and they enclosed around the soft, luscious skin, intertwining their loose fingers until all they could do was hold on as if their lives depended on it. Yuri tried to avoid his eyes, tried to block out his voice as he spoke but discovered it impossible. "Yuri, if I am doing something you don't like, tell me. Am I pushing you too hard? Am I putting too much pressure on you? I'm sorry, love, I don't mean to."

⠀⠀⠀"That isn't it," Yuri said softly.

⠀⠀⠀ _I don't want him to stop caring for me._

⠀⠀⠀ _HE DOESN'T CARE FOR YOU._

⠀⠀⠀"Then what it is?" Viktor panicked. "If I am doing something wrong, tell me."

⠀⠀⠀"You aren't doing anything wrong," The skater murmured. "It is me who has done wrong."

⠀⠀⠀ _I don't want to do this._

⠀⠀⠀ _I don't want to tell him._

⠀⠀⠀ _I don't want us to end._

⠀⠀⠀"I haven't seen you do anything wrong."

⠀⠀⠀ _TELL HIM._

⠀⠀⠀ _FREE HIM._

⠀⠀⠀ _END IT._

⠀⠀⠀"But I have!" Yuri screamed, his voice rising and his tears suddenly falling. He was done. He could take no more. He could no longer take the guilt and the wrongdoing no more. His hands undid themselves from Viktor's, and he didn't hesitate to suddenly slip the golden ring from on his finger to display it. This was it. It was time. "I can't carry this sense of shame anymore, and I won't! I won't go on being the person who stole Viktor Nikiforov from the world! I won't go on being the person who killed your love to skate, your passion to surprise, your potential. I won't go on being the person who killed Viktor Nikiforov."

⠀⠀⠀"Yuri!" Viktor exclaimed, his hand reaching out to grasp the skater's once more, only to be rejected with another wince and retreat. He tried to conceal his hurt and confusion, but no avail. He couldn't believe what he was hearing, couldn't believe what had been circling amongst his lover's head that could cause him to act and say the things he was now. "I-I don't understand what you are talking about, love. Killing me? I don't understand. If any, you are saving me, making me better than I could ever possibly imagine—"

⠀⠀⠀"I saw how you watched those skaters, Viktor. I saw how entranced you were by their performances, how mesmerized, how amazed you were at their ability to catch your eyes. I saw how your own career seemed to flash before your eyes. I saw how much you wished to be back in the rink and on the ice," Yuri snapped, his teeth visibly clenched from hurt.

⠀⠀⠀"I love to skate, Yuri, but not as much to simply leave you—"

⠀⠀⠀"Please, don't lie to me, Viktor," The skater's voice softened ever-so-slightly, his chocolate-hued irises casting downwards to the carpet beneath his very feet. His tears came trickling down his reddened cheeks, eyelids swollen, and his lips a quivering mess. "I know that I am a failure. I failed to deliver the message to the audience of my Eros, my love for you. It is the reason for my poor score. I understand how you would feel. I wouldn't want to coach a failure. I understand how you would want to return to the ice with your reputation and your record in tact. I know how terribly you want to leave, so please, don't lie to me. If you want to leave, then do so."

⠀⠀⠀"What in hell are you talking about?" Viktor hissed, his eyebrows furrowing in anger. "How could you ever think I would want to ever leave you? I don't understand what you are trying to tell me. You, a failure? Maybe your last performance wasn't at its best, but you are anything but a failure, Yuri. And my reputation, my record? I could care less about those things. Yuri, they are called records because they are meant to be broken. It is normal. I couldn't stay at the top even if I wanted to. Has this all you have been thinking of for the last few days? That you have been killing Viktor Nikiforov, thinking that you have been a failure, and thinking that I despise you for it? I am disappointed to hear how lowly you think of me and how easily you think I would just end things."

⠀⠀⠀Yuri wasn't listening to anything that came out of Viktor's mouth. He didn't want to hear any more lies that were spewing out and into his ears. He knows that this man isn't happy with him, isn't happy standing in the sidelines and watching, isn't happy that his life is being run over by a failure. He knows. He won't be told otherwise. "I know how you think, Viktor! I know from the looks you give to others and of the looks you won't give to me. I know that you would end things if I didn't win gold! I know that you would be happy if I retired because then you wouldn't be entitled to care for me! I know, Viktor!"

⠀⠀⠀"Yuri, listen to me, love—"

⠀⠀⠀"No, _you_ listen to _me_ ," Yuri snapped. His mind was spinning. His heart was racing. He could barely breathe due to his sudden rush of oxygen. His lungs were collapsing on him, he could feel it. "I am destroying you, taking you away, so why don't you hate me? I am ripping apart what is left of Viktor Nikiforov and his reputation. I am a failure. I won't win gold, and because of that, we will both take the fall, so what is it you don't understand? Hate me. Despise me. Toss me aside. Tell me to get away. Take the ring off of your finger and end it already."

⠀⠀⠀Viktor's gaze hardened. It no longer resembled the ocean's tranquil waves as it crashed upon the shoreline, but one of solid ice. A pale film appeared to frame his now ferocious eyes as he stood up from the bed, lips pursed, and fists clenched. Yuri couldn't look away. "I would never leave you, toss you aside, none of that, for any reason such as those. I would never take this ring off of my ringer and end what we have because I love you too much. I would never despise you. I would never even think that you are a failure.  I would never not love you just because you didn't win gold. I don't care about all of these foolish things, Yuri, I only care about you. Yes, skating is a passion. Yes, it would be amazing if you won gold. Yes, I loved and cherished my spot at the top. But not as much as I love and cherish you, Yuri Katsuki."

⠀⠀⠀ _END IT._

⠀⠀⠀ _END IT, NOW._

⠀⠀⠀"What you are saying isn't true."

⠀⠀⠀ _IT ISN'T._

⠀⠀⠀"You don't love me."

⠀⠀⠀ _HE DOESN'T._

⠀⠀⠀"You don't care for me."

⠀⠀⠀ _HE DOESN'T._

⠀⠀⠀"This ring represents nothing but a lie."

⠀⠀⠀ _A LIE._

⠀⠀⠀"We are done."

⠀⠀⠀ _DONE._

⠀⠀⠀Yuri was prepared to faint. He was prepared for his lungs to completely betray his body and knock him unconscious. He was prepared to finally be freed from this guilt. His heart was racing and throbbing relentlessly in his chest, his breathing erratic and heavy, and he was surprised he managed to even say everything calmly and normally. His eyelids drooped, his vision blurry and moist, his mind spinning and dizzy. _I did it_ , Yuri thought to himself, _I finally ended it. It was the right thing to do. It was the best choice for the both of us._

⠀⠀⠀Then, he could feel his cheek enflame with an agonizing spark of pain.

⠀⠀⠀Eyes opening, Yuri was met with Viktor's arm at an angle, palm outstretched and skin blooming a crimson hue. He was breathing heavily; they both were. Yuri couldn't stop the stinging of his cheek, couldn't comprehend what had happened until all of the pieces came together. Viktor hit him. Viktor had hit him.

⠀⠀⠀"W-Why...?"

⠀⠀⠀"Why won't you listen to me, Yuri?" Viktor screeched frantically, his hair disheveled and his shoulders heaving from his own erratic breaths. "I love you, I care for you, only you, everything to me is you, yet you don't understand, and it is driving me insane! Don't listen to anyone or anything else because they are wrong. I love you. I fell in love with you a long time ago, and I will not stop until the day Fate decides it is time. Listen to me, only me. I don't care about the gold. I don't care about my reputation. I don't care about my broken records. I don't care about anything that is not you. Everything that I care about and for, is you. I love you, Yuri Katsuki. I love everything about you. I love all of your flaws. I love all how thoughtful you are. I just, love you, okay?"

⠀⠀⠀Yuri couldn't cease his stuttered breaths, his sniffles, nor his tears. He stared at the silver-haired man, his coach, his inspiration, his lover, and couldn't peel his eyes away. This man loves him. This man cares for him. He always has, always will. Yuri's eyes brimmed with tears once more at how foolish and how senseless he was. Why did he ever test Viktor's love for him? Why did he ever selfishly assume that ending their love was the right decision? Why did he listen to his thoughts when he knew all they did was bring him down and cause trouble?

⠀⠀⠀Yuri was so ashamed.

⠀⠀⠀He bowed his head in hopes to hide himself and his shame, his fingers running through his dark tresses and tugging at them angrily. _I am so sorry. I am so sorry. I am so—_

⠀⠀⠀"I-I'm so sorry, V-Viktor. I am s-so, s-so sorry," Yuri pleaded for forgiveness, his knuckles rubbing at his swollen eyelids. His lips quivered, throat raw and pained. He didn't remove his gaze from where they were locked with his lover. "I love you... I l-love you. This is all my f-fault."

⠀⠀⠀"Come here, love."

⠀⠀⠀Viktor outstretched his arms, a light grin plastered on his cheeks as he sent the raven-haired male the sweetest expression he could muster with tears trailing down his face. Yuri did not hesitate, did not falter, and stood up to fall into his lover's embrace. He sobbed restlessly into his clothed chest, arms constricting the familiar body so tightly and desperately that he was afraid to let go.

⠀⠀⠀His hands found their way to gripping Viktor's soft, cotton robe, his nose burying itself deep into the crook of his chin and craving for the forgiveness and unconditional love he didn't deserve. Viktor smiled lovingly and cuddled the skater closer, his own fingers combing through his sable strands and bringing him closer than he could ever think possible. Yuri hoped and prayed that this was his way of saying that he was forgiven, that no matter what he said or did, that he would always be forgiven. By the way his lover seemed to nuzzle even closer told him that he was right, and he was grateful.

⠀⠀⠀"Yuri, it is not your fault. I knew something was wrong the moment your practice performances began to slip, but it was my own fault for not pushing forward and asking about what you were thinking so intently about," Viktor whispered. "I know how you think. Sometimes, you think of not-so-good thoughts, and at others, your thoughts are overwhelmingly wonderful. It just so happens that I didn't know what kind of thoughts you were projecting."

⠀⠀⠀"It... It isn't your fault, Viktor," Yuri protested, yanking his chin away from underneath the other male's, eyes wide with bewilderment. "I should know not to think poorly of you... I should have never been skeptical of your love for me. I should have trusted you, yet I didn't."

⠀⠀⠀"It is okay, love."

⠀⠀⠀"It isn't! I should trust you more, and—"

⠀⠀⠀Before Yuri could even think of finishing his sentence, his words were taken away just like his breath, and his lips were met another's. His worries, his stresses, his tears— everything that he had continued to tear him apart seemed to dissipate into thin air. Viktor's lips were warm, soft, and sweet upon his own slightly chapped ones. Yuri could taste the tints of alcohol that the man drank a few hours back, and though he didn't necessarily enjoy the taste of alcohol, he now knew that anything that was on Viktor's lips and tongue was something he wouldn't mind becoming addicted to. He found his own lips moving a few seconds later, and they're love was meshed together into one long and savoring kiss.

⠀⠀⠀Viktor opened an eye only to see that Yuri's were faintly shut, relaxed and free. He removed his lips from the prying ones of his lover's and urged him to look into his eyes. Yuri did so, cheeks enflamed with a light rosy tint. Viktor grinned, emotions of adoration and fondness displayed as clear as glass on his face, he spoke, "I know you trust me. I know that your anxiety makes you less confident and wary about yourself. I know. It isn't your fault, love."

⠀⠀⠀Yuri nodded slowly.

⠀⠀⠀"Don't listen to anyone or anything that defies my love for you, okay? I don't care about my reputation or my records. I care about you. I don't see you as a failure or a waste of time. I see you as the love of my life and the person I want to spend my life with. I love you, Yuri Katsuki."

⠀⠀⠀Yuri smiled, "I love you, too, Viktor... and thank you... for loving me."

⠀⠀⠀"There is no need to thank me for that, love."

⠀

❅ ❅ ❅⠀•❉•⠀❅ ❅ ❅

⠀

⠀⠀⠀Yuri didn't win gold, but he wasn't as dejected about it as some would be. Viktor didn't get to kiss the actual gold medal, or at least, he wouldn't, yet. But he didn't need the gold medal to be happy. 

⠀⠀⠀Viktor and Yuri still got married—

⠀⠀⠀— and Yuri still got that kiss.

⠀

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Please comment constructive criticism, for this is my first work in this fandom! All is appreciated! <3
> 
> Wattpad: ScarletPetal  
> Instagram : ScarletPetal


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